Chasing the Sun
Part 1: The Guest “Ah I’m sorry,” the ginger haired women exclaimed as she sprung to her feet. “I completely forgot about the kettle!” It was a wonder she had, as the tea kettle on the stove was whistling at an ear-splitting decibel. She dashed over to the kitchen and removed the nuisance before switching off the heat. But it didn’t take long before she returned to the living room, as she had already set out the tea cups on a tray along with a sugar owl and a plate of round berry tarts. Western style tea was one of current obsessions, and she set the tray down on the coffee table with obvious delight, happy to be able to share it with her guest... a Shinigami from the Fourth Division. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said with a smile. “But you have to try these raspberry red-bean jam tarts. I know it might sound odd, but they actually have a very unique flavor!” In reality, Orihime was a much better cook and pastry chef than the red bean raspberry tarts would have let on. She had had years of practice after all, first working at a local bakery as well as cooking at home. The tarts happened to be one of her most recent experiments, although truth be told, she was only serving them because she didn’t have anything else on hand. The visit had been entirely unexpected. “Now then,” Orihime began. She plopped down on the cushion on the other side of the table, causing her voluminous bust to bounce with her. “One lump or two?” she asked innocently, waiting for the response before putting two into her own cup. “And if you don’t mind, well... it’s just so unusual to have a visitor from the Soul Society that I just have to ask right away. What did you want to talk to me about?” "One is fine." A brown-skinned, white haired woman dressed in a traditional shihakusho stated as she rest against the cushion of the couch. She reached for the pasty, her breast propped perfectly in her female support device, but both shining off of the glare given to them by the bright lights of the living room. As she lifted the pastry and leaned back against the couch, they bounced much like the woman sitting beside her--a competition of the two sets. Bitting into the sweet, she smiled as the raspberry flavor seemed to serve her taste buds well. With a napkin in her other hand, she patted her rather large and enticing lips removing the crumbs of the pastry, but saving the lipstick that was covering them. "Y-yes!" The woman hesitated, "I am H-H-Himari Yamakage, Third Seated Officer of the Fourth Division." Her soft voice packed no bass, in fact, even Orihime would probably have trouble hearing her despite how close they were. Truth be told, Himari was very nervous. She was so focused on not trying to mess up this opportunity that she began to lose herself. "W-we'd like to interview you in the Soul Society, Orihime-chan! We'd be asking what do you do when healing, preparations that you make, and even demonstrating this to new recruits. Or even the old ones!" Himari fiddled with the napkin, her nervousness showing through the redness of her blushing. She took a short pause then placed it on the table in front of her. "You don't have to, Orihime-chan! It's but a simple request!" She shouted, throwing her hands into the air shaking them side to side. Orihime did not respond immediately, instead delicately lifting her teacup as she took a sip, obviously deep in thought. Her eyebrows barely wrinkled in a subtle frown, which was likely impossible for Himari to notice. "Hmm. An interview? But why would they want me? The Gotei 13 has so many talented people already..." She trailed off, thinking back to the events that had transpired several years before. Orihime remembered the way she had looked at Ichigo's back as they entered the Warwehlt. They hadn't carried hope with them, she knew. It had been hopeless desperation. Nor had he given her a smile. Just as it had been when he had fought Grimmjow, he had known that it would have been wrong to put on a face of false assurance for her sake. Yet despite his despair, he had plunged head first into the fight, always running in front of her. There was a knot in her throat then, as she realized that yet again she was depending on him to save her, to save them all. And she felt guilty for placing such a burden on him after having promised herself never to do so again. But in the end, those doubts had been set aside, as the black moon had pierced the sun. Even so, she supposed it had been naive of her to expect that everything could have gone back to the way it was before. Ichigo had changed. She had changed. And while it seemed as though things in the human world were better than they ever could have expected afterwards, the happiness they and their friends shared seemed at times hollow, as if they were ignoring an obvious void between them. From what she had seen of the Soul Society after the war, Orihime knew that the Shinigami had experienced that same hollowness. A false assurance of security. The acknowledgement that they were powerless. The fear that the next threat may very well eliminate them. And above all, the hanging question "why" as, like the living dead, they attempted to pick up the pieces and move on. That same feeling had been embodied, she remembered, in one lieutenant's broken form: Kira Izuru. The gaping hole had been so obvious, as half his chest was missing, held together by tenuous fibers of false flesh. But she hadn't been able to reject the wound. The foreign reiatsu presence melded into Izuru's body had been too deep, and without Unohana there had been no one skilled enough to cleanse him. Either that or Mayuri had somehow meddled with his spiritual signature after stringing him back together. Uryū was convinced it was the latter. Either way, Orihime had apologized profusely. "I'm sorry, Izuru-san, I can't reject your wound." "It's alright, miss Inoue, I think I can learn to live with it..." Yet his shoulders had sunk as he had walked away, bowing under that same burden. Defeat. Orihime had clenched her fist, pressing it into her chest as she fought back her own wallowing sense of sorrow. And the question remained, disquieting and as unerasable as the wound in Kira's chest. Am I useless? Now, however, the request for her to come and train the Fourth Division seemed to provide her with an answer to that question. She knew it was selfish, but excitement stirred in the pit of her stomach. Did they actually affirm her knowledge and experience? Or did they only value her for the unique nature of her power? Either way, she hadn't been idle the last few years, and she realized that this could finally be a chance to test herself—to prove to herself that she had overcome her own weaknesses and had grown despite everything that had happened with Yhwach. Orihime set the cup in the saucer before placing it on the table. Her hands came to rest quietly in her lap. "I'll come." She told Himari, and her voice seemed clearer and more confident, speaking with a hint of hidden strength. If the Soul Society needed her help, and she could in fact help, then what reason did she have to deny the request? Her motives weren't so complicated as Uryū's, nor did she have the same unease Ichigo now felt towards aiding the Gotei 13. She had friends in the Seireitei, after all. Perhaps she would have time to pay Rukia and Renji a visit as well. Orihime smiled, and this time it was genuine. "When can we leave?" Himari's eyes widened after Orihime changed her mind and had decided she'd go along with them. A grand smile was born as she stood to her feet and patted her shihakusho off. That was much easier and went much smoother than she had anticipated it would be. Then again, the people of the Soul Society always went on about how nice and kind-hearted she had been, so why was Himari even worried to begin with? Well regardless, now she had nothing to worry about or shoulder herself with. "If you are ready, we can leave now! I-it'd be best since we only have a twenty four hour time frame to work with!" One day is all the division had been granted and Himari wanted to have that countdown begin as soon as possible. Orihime laughed somewhat nervously, and one could almost imagine a giant drop of sweat appearing above her head. "That's really not much time is it?" she said. "Well then, I suppose we should hurry! Let me just text Ichigo. I don't want him to worry about where I'm at. Oh, and of course, I'll need to clean all this up first," she said as she began to recollect the tea cups. She was doing her best not to let it show, but she was somewhat flustered at being pressured to act so quickly. Turning to head towards the door, Himari signalled Orihime to follow along. "Come, Orihime-chan! We'll arrive using the Dangai." "I'll be right there," Orihime promised. A few minutes later, the two of them stood outside. Orihime locked the door behind her, then they started to make their way towards the park at the end of the street. Himari had wanted to open the Senkaimon right then and there, but Orihime, having experience with such things, hadn't exactly wanted a spiritual portal opened at her house. Not again, anyway. Furthermore, she didn't really know Himari, and while she trusted that the Shinigami had the best intentions, she wasn't sure of the latter's experience in combat. All things considered, the park would be a better choice, as it allowed them space to maneuver should anything go wrong. Not that things would go wrong, she told herself. She shouldn't start worrying about the "coulds." Silly me, she thought. Orihime attempted to start a conversation with Himari and, engrossed in the small talk, neither of them noticed the presence of a figure who trailed behind them as they made their way towards the park. He wore a light-weight white jacket left unzipped over a simple black t-shirt, but the hood was pulled down too far for anyone to clearly see his face. His only notable feature was the small vertical scar on the left corner of his mouth. The man paused as he watched the two women leave the street and enter the park. He had overheard snippets of their conversation, but none of it had seemed relevant, and at any rate he was too busy concentrating on masking his reiatsu to have paid much attention. Now, however, he needed to hurry. Having slipped through a Garganta while following a Hollow into the Human World, he had quickly tracked down his objective in Karakura Town, just as the rumors had said. It was only his luck that Ichigo Kurosaki hadn't been around that day, but he knew if he didn't finish up quickly, the others back in Hueco Mundo would start to question his absence. Enough time had passed, and he selfishly wanted to keep his objective in coming to Karakura to himself. Steel gray eyes narrowed in on their target. Then, with a flicker of blue light, the figure seemed to vanish... After reaching the small playground in the center of the park, Himari drew her Zanpakutou and plunged it into midair before turning it to the side. A glowing white line appeared, and a circular Senkaimon materialized in front of them. As the screen doors slid open, a black butterfly fluttered out, waiting to guide them into the spiritual realm. However, on account of the fact that Orihime wasn't a Shinigami, they would be forced to pass through the Dangai despite the presence of the the . Himari stepped through the portal, followed by Orihime. Without warning, a thin line of blue reishi cut through the Jigokuchō, severing the butterfly in two parts. Its black wings crumpled before dissipating into green particles of energy. Then, a canvas of black closed around them, almost as if the walls of a spell were enveloping them. "What's going on?" Orihime cried out. A terrible feeling settled in the center of her chest as all that was familiar to her was stripped away. The ground dropped beneath their feet, and, unable to resist the current of empty space, they were forcibly pulled into the void. Part 2: Hate Not My Enemy Darkness. For a moment, Himari felt hopeless and she and the woman beside her had been thrown into the void. Had she opened the Senkaimon incorrectly? Her own heart dropped to her rear reaching the point of wanting to throw up everything she'd eaten at the Kurosaki residence. There was no wrong way of opening the Senkaimon, not that she'd heard at least. The darkness seemed to bring about negative emotions as the Shinigami ponder between the worse possibilities she could. But something clicked, forcing her to return to reality and atone for the situation at hand. Lifting her left index finger up, she stated, "Hadō #4, !" Following the last word, the tip of her finger began to glow a light blue with very small electrical particles. "Hold." She added, causing the spell that was intended to shot outwards towards a target, to remain resting on the tip of her finger as though it were some sort of dungeon light. Somehow the two of them managed to be separate, but just a little. Swiftly the Third Seated officer made her way next to Orihime and wrapped the ginger into her right arm. Himari could sense the presence of another, something she'd neglected to do before, but the darkness made it hard for her to see. "T-This was not apart of the travel, Orihime-chan..." She justified, just as nervous as she was once before, nearly stuffing Orihime into her breast. Orihime laughed nervously once more. “Please be careful with the light, Yamakage-san,” she requested politely, sensing the dangerous potential of the spell despite its restricted state. She then extracted herself from the other woman’s grasp as quickly and as gracefully as possible. Despite her initial shock at being thrust into blank space, she had quickly regained her composure and as such, was more shaken up by the Shinigami’s strange behavior than their current situation. After all, the Dangai was nothing new to her, as she had been there many times before.  Orihime brushed off her skirt as she took stock of her surroundings. “Well, at least we’re in one piece!” she stated, although her exuberance might have been inappropriate given their circumstances. In reality, even though Orihime had brushed aside the strange nature of their situation, she was secretly scouring the darkness around them, searching for signs of their potential attacker. While it had taken her a moment to realize it, she now understood that someone had cut through the Jigokuchō, and had done so purposefully. The question, however, was why. Had they wished to isolate her and Himari from the Soul Society? Based on what Rukia had once told her, she knew that the Hell Butterflies not only served to guide Shinigami through the Dangai, they also transmitted a recording for the Twelfth Division to monitor the activities of those passing through the Senkaimon. Now, that security measure was completely gone. “We should probably make our way to the Soul Society as quickly as possible,” Orihime said as she stared down the empty corridor, feeling a creeping sense of unease. She turned to Himari. “But don’t worry! If the Kōtotsu shows up I can halt it with Santen Kesshun while we make a run for it!” However, the fact that “halting the Santen Kesshun while they made a run for it” would be the absolute worst possible outcome seemed lost upon her. Then again, maybe it wasn't the absolute worst after all, as just then, the Byakurai held above Himari’s fingertip flared up brightly before extending away from her in a bright line, as though the spell itself were becoming unravelled. The electricity snapped angrily at empty space as it was forcibly pulled away, and then the glowing blue thread of the Byakurai left Himari’s grasp and disappeared, leaving them in darkness. “What was that?” A distant silhouette was illuminated by crackling blue energy: the same energy that had been stolen from the Byakurai. Orihime gasped, realizing that her worst suspicions had been confirmed. She couldn’t help but think of the a mysterious figure had appeared in the Dangai, and fear, sharp and palpable, began to beat in her chest. Nonetheless, she curbed back the welling sense of terror and put on a brave face: For her own sake more than Himari’s. She would not allow the past to repeat itself. “Who’s there?” she called out. She couldn’t sense the distant figure’s reiatsu, but they didn’t seem to be familiar to her. Instead of answering her, however, the figure raised both of his hands. Narrowing her eyes, she caught the glint of steel against the blackness. “Shé Jìn Zhǎo.” Blue light flashed in the corridor suddenly, materializing into a powerful stream of energy. There was an electric hum—apparently still a residual effect of the Byakurai the attacker had absorbed—and then the torrent of piercing reishi shot towards them. The front of the stream parted in two, as if the jaws of a serpent had opened to consume them, and for a moment everything around them seemed drowned out in the wash of light. Orihime’s fingers flew to the hairpins pinned to the collar of her shirt. “Santen Kesshu!” she called out frantically, “I reject!” The relentless stream of light and reishi crashed against the triangular yellow screen that appeared between them and the attack. But, having formed the shield nearly too late, it quickly cracked under the pressure. Then, it shattered. With a roar the snake of energy pushed towards them, with enough force to throw them back into the walls of the Dangai’s corridor—where they would be lodged into the current of time and disintegrated, Orihime realized as her eyes widened in horror. The figure showed itself in the form of a launched attack. As she who'd been escorting Orihime, it was Hirmari's duty to protect her by any means. Quickly she began to gather her spiritual pressure at the sight of the foes attack and had already formulated her next kidō spell. Her efforts were not needed immediately as Orihime had already been prepared to react, Saten Kesshu activated instantly create a light shield to protect the two. Instead, it shattered upon contact with the opposing technique, a testament that their opponent was no average joe. "Yes, Orihime-chan!" She shouted and still holding the ginger tight in her arms, Himari to the complete opposite side of the narrow passage dodging the technique, for the time being at least. Running down the long path she began to think about the tragedy that could take place within the Dangai. If the "cleaner" had sensed even a tad bit of disturbance then truly it would awake and all hell would break loose. Either this hooded figure wanted this outcome, or they had no idea what was going on. One technique was risky, but two was like an alarm clock for it to awake. Regardless, Himari fixated her mind on the current mission at hand; the safety of lady Orihime. With another jump she skipped forward etching closer to the exit of the Dangai, but was well aware that the figure was not too far off. Before, as the beam of energy had nearly completely filled the width of the passageway, Himari’s reckless use of Shunpo brought them dangerously close to the walls of the Dangai. They skirted along the edge of the Kōryū, and Orihime felt as the current nearly pulled her into the fold of time. Normally a very trusting individual, she decided at that moment she would feel safer on her own two feet. When they stopped on the other side of the corridor, Orihime looked behind her, but she did not catch sight of their enemy. Still, she knew he was there. Himari had already taken off down the tunnel and Orihime sprinted behind her to reach the exit. Following closely on the heels of the Shinigami, she saw a sliver of white light up ahead: the other side of the Senkaimon. They were almost there! Orihime took another step forward... And nearly jumped out of her skin when something flashed into existence in front of her. She saw the white jacket and a hand extending towards her... and then she found herself flying back. The impact had been so sudden and so hard that, at first, she wasn’t sure which part of her had been hit. But the side of her face stung with sharp needles of pain, and small bursts of light exploded in front of her vision. “Ah—” Orihime crashed into the floor of the Dangai. Desperately, she tried to roll onto her feet, but she failed to regain her footing. Then, in a single, harrowing moment, she felt as her ankle slipped back. When she found no purchase realized the sensation of thick emptiness was the Wresting Flow. The current of time had wrapped itself over her ankle, and although she tried to pull free, she knew it was useless... She was trapped. At that moment, a yellow light appeared at the opposite end of the corridor, and the ground beneath her began to shake. The Kōtotsu. “Yamakage-san!” Orihime screamed as she continued to pull at her foot. The wall would not budge, as though it had completely frozen her leg into place. The only thing on Himari's mind was to get out of the Dangai safely and prevent any harm happening to Orihime. She, in fact, was so nervous that she'd scared herself into thinking straight. Each step she took was a possibility of Orihime being hurt and the backlash she would receive. Her shihakusho was drenched in sweat, yet her face was as dry as sandpaper. Her thoughts blinded her from reality and she hadn't even noticed that Orihime slipped from her grasp. Himari was just steps away from the exit when she heard Orihime's cry behind her. Stopping in her tracks as though she'd hit an invisible wall, Himari quickly turned around. In the distance, she could see Orihime tugging her thigh as though she'd been stuck For a moment she looked back at the exit and her mind raced. She'd been so close to the exit and the only thing stopping her from freedom was the clutz of a girl who'd fallen to the surface of the dangai. It seemed those reports of her being severely absent minded "O-Orihime-chan!" She shouted, recklessly utilizing Shunpo once more to close the distance between herself and Orihime. Currently, there was no trace of the hooded asylum, but at the same time, Himari made sure to keep a close eye out despite her own nervousness. She pulled on Orihime's leg, hoping that she could free the woman. "It won't come out!" She exclaimed, taking note that the woman's leg was stuck right in there. What she hadn't noticed just yet, was the Kōtotsu and that had mostly been due to the fact her mind had been in multiple different places at once. There was no time. Orihime was well aware of that fact even as Himari reached her side. Already the Kōtotsu was nearly upon them. Had the Twelfth Division somehow recalibrated its speed since the last time someone had destroyed it? Not that it mattered now. “Himari-san,” Orihime said, a hard light of determination burning in her eyes. She placed her hands together, forming a triangle with her fingers and thumbs, and centered the Shinigami in the gap. “Save yourself!” she told her. With that, she released another shield of Santen Kesshun. This time, however, it was large enough to stretch between both sides of the tunnel... and it was moving towards Himari. Fast. It seemed as though Orihime intended to push Himari back away from the Kōtotsu, and the shield traced along fast enough to keep just in front of the Sweeper, which would push Himari down the length of the tunnel until she would reach the outside, safe out of harm’s way. Orihime then turned to face her own fate with a grim sort of grace that only came to the surface under life-or-death situations. Keeping her left hand raised to push back Himari with the Santen Kesshun, Orihime then trained her right hand on the oncoming Kōtotsu, aiming with her index and middle finger. “Tsubaki, Koten Zanshun,” she pronounced with deadly precision, “I reject.” A blade of golden, highly-condensed energy shot from her fingertips and cut towards the Kōtotsu, humming slightly as it sliced through the air. Orihime was going to cut through the Sweeper, and apologized in advance to whichever Shinigami was tasked with maintaining the Dangai. The question was, would it be enough? The Koten Zanshun pierced the head of the Kōtotsu. There was a resonating boom followed by a terrible screech, as if the Kōtotsu had been pushed back, and Orihime shielded her eyes against the glare, bracing herself for an explosion. But it never came. The ground continued to rumble beneath her as the Kōtotsu barreled along its course unimpeded. For some reason, the Koten Zanshun had vanished into the thick mass of the Sweeper. Perhaps it truly had cut through, but the schism it had created had been so fine that the Kōtotsu had instantly melded back together. At that moment, a word escaped Orihime’s mouth that she normally would have never dreamed of uttering aloud. “Fuck!” she exclaimed. But as she narrowed her eyes to stare into the face of her own doom, she noticed a silhouette against the flooding light that filled the tunnel. She realized that it was the man who had originally attacked her, who was now narrowly skirting just ahead of the Kōtotsu. He vanished from sight before appearing at her side. Once more, she was somewhat dumbstruck by his speed, but now he was close enough to where she could finally pin down his reiatsu—a Quincy. The hood of his jacket had fallen back, no longer shielding his face, and his narrow eyes seemed to instantly appraise the situation before him even as his features were drowned out from the glare of the Kōtotsu’s light. “Hurry!” she screamed without thinking, “Get out of here!” But without a shred of hesitation, and without even asking her permission, he cut towards her ankle with the three silver blades that apparently formed his main offensive weapon. Well, cut towards it was an understatement... He cut through it. Orihime’s eyes widened, and her face drained of color even though she didn’t feel any pain at first. She was more in shock at the fact that one moment she had been lodged in the current of time, and in the next she was missing her foot. “Ah–” she began. But she had no time to scream, as just then the Kōtotsu swept over them. Part 3: Rhythm of the Dark It had been one thing to have been forcibly pulled into the Dangai after the Quincy had sliced through the Hell Butterly earlier, but it was quite another matter to be drowned by the Kōtotsu. At first there was a terrible rush, as though she had been sucked into the current of a deep river. All around her, an eery howl echoed in the empty expanse, and she imagined that the cacophony was akin to that of several thousand wandering souls crying out listlessly for a name. A cold flood of something that wasn’t quite spiritual pressure rushed over her, and for a moment she felt as though the threads of her very being were being pulled at, tugged in each direction towards the chaos that surrounded her. Without thinking she formed a barrier of Sōten Keshun around her to protect against the sensation of having her own matter disintegrate. At last, she passed to what must have been the other side of the Kōtotsu. What followed was a terrible, deadly stillness. A calm that weighed so heavily upon her senses that she almost thought, for a split second, that she had ceased to exist entirely. Yet the void was somehow alluring, drawing her towards emptiness. Fortunately, the sensation passed as quickly as it had come, and when Orihime opened her eyes she found to her surprise that she was still in one piece. Well, mostly one piece... “Oh...” Her foot was still missing from the ankle down, and blood was quickly beginning to pool around the severed limb. The pain was worse than she would have imagined. While she felt faint, she had seen injuries far worse than her own, and she bit her lower lip to hold back her tears. Survival was her first priority. Think, Orhime. She told herself. Breathe. Vaguely, she noticed her surroundings. She was half-lying on what seemed to be a flat plane of glass, only the substance beneath her wasn’t hard. The surface of the floor, although as dark as the rest of the Dangai, was almost translucent. Pressing her hand into it, a smoke-like substance flowed over her fingertips, but she felt nothing. Somehow she could see her own reflection, and noticed that the sleeve of her blouse had been torn. She felt a pang of sadness. It had been a gift from Uryū... Think. She told herself once more. Fighting back nausea, she clasped her hairpins in her hand and an orange net of glowing energy enveloped where her foot should have been. I reject. She willed. I reject, I reject... Slowly, the bone began to regenerate, and Orihime watched as the skin and flesh seemed to knit itself back into place. It was much more difficult to heal herself as opposed to someone else, and she gasped with the effort of fighting the pain. Then, in the distance, she saw him: Her attacker... and the man who had saved her. He was walking towards her, and every time he took a step a small, smoke-like ring of white rippled out across the surface of the void. Finally, in what seemed like an infinity he reached her.  Wordlessly, he watched with intense interest as Orihime’s foot continued to take form. She didn’t speak, as the words seemed caught in her throat, but she was finally able to take a closer look at her supposed enemy. He was Chinese, with a shock of thick black hair and distinctly narrow eyes that seemed to appraise her with thinly veiled disdain. He was about the same age as Ichigo and her—maybe younger—and again, her attention was drawn to the vertical scar in the corner of his mouth. It seemed familiar, somehow. Where had she felt that reiatsu before... A . She realized. He was a Sternritter. A cold sweat ran down the nape of Orihime’s neck, but still she said nothing as she completed the process of rejecting the severing of her ankle. Finally whole, she held the shield in place for a few more seconds before gingerly releasing the Santen Kesshun. The technique was so perfect that she wasn’t even missing her shoe, and the blood had disappeared completely. “Orihime Inoue,” the Quincy said, pronouncing her name carefully, “So the rumors about your powers are true.” He reached out to touch her ankle, as if he were going to confirm that what he saw was real.  “Stop.” He froze, heeding her command. Orihime took a breath, then continued. “How do you know my name, and why did you attack me?” Her voice sounded much bolder than she actually felt, but she determined that she would neither be manipulated nor allow herself to be used as leverage. Never again. “I am Cang Du,” he introduced himself. “Cang who?” Cang Du gave her the blankest of expressions, apparently having heard the joke many times before.  “Cang Du,” he repeated before continuing. “Before, I was known as Sternritter I—the Iron. I was a member of his majesty’s... no, of Yhwach’s Wandenreich, and it was there when I first heard of you and your powers,” he paused, and for some reason the lapse into silence seemed threatening. “I heard that you can reject past events entirely.” Orihime pressed her lips together in a firm line, but said nothing at first. She was beginning to suspect where this conversation was headed. “Is that why you attacked me and my friend?” “I didn’t mean to attack you originally,” he explained, although his expression was so stoic Orihime couldn’t tell if he was being apologetic or disingenuous. “I was only trying to separate you from the Shinigami so we could talk—alone.” “There was no need to use so much violence if all you wanted was to talk,” Orihime said, and there was an edge of anger in her tone. “You were putting all of our lives at risk.” The Quincy shrugged, slightly. “I could have killed your partner instead, but seeing how you’re a pacifist, I knew you would object to such methods. Even now I can see you don’t trust me.” He seemed to realize that what he had said had not convinced her, and so added “But if I had truly wanted to harm you, would I have gone out of the way to save you from the purging wave?” Orihime’s eyes narrowed. She stood up, carefully putting weight on her foot even though she knew it was completely healed, and faced him. She was no longer as trusting of an individual as she had once been. At least not when it came to Arrancar or former Sternritter who attacked her or her friends, especially. “Don’t take me for some helpless fool, Cang Du,” she said at last, quietly. “I know that just because you’ve brought me here doesn’t mean you’ve saved me.” Her hands balled into fists, and she found one of the stances for self-defense that Tatsuki had once taught her. She was prepared to fight back, if need be. But Cang Du shook his head. “There is very little reishi here,” he said, “I can’t fight you, even if I wanted to.” Then, to show her that what he was saying was true, he tried to form a small flame of Heilig Feuer in the palm of his hand. The blue light flickered, dimly, then burned out. The ambient reishi was simply too low for a Quincy to sustain their powers. Orihime frowned, confused as to why he was revealing his weaknesses to her. Did that mean he really was telling the truth? “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why would you came here knowing that you would be powerless?” “Would you have let me get close to you otherwise?” Cang asked rhetorically, but then added, “I didn’t want the Soul Society to know I had contacted you. For both my sake—and yours.” “So,” Orihime replied cautiously, “You’re still an enemy of the Soul Society?” “Can you call two elements of nature that are diametrically opposed ‘enemies?’” he said, equally as cautious, “Like light and dark, there was never any antagonism, merely causality.” He started to monologue, but then caught himself, “However, it is true that I have a great distaste for the Shinigami and their imposed order on the world. I may hate them, but I was never their enemy.” Orihime thought she understood what he was saying. She had learned, mainly from Ulquiorra, that while war might have seemed black and white, with one side pitted against the other, the motivations of the participants themselves were always shaded in many different hues. At times they even contradicted themselves. As such, Cang Du’s answer suggested that while he bore the same hatred towards the Soul Society that most Quincy held, his participation in the Wandenreich had not been principally for that reason. Perhaps he hadn’t even joined willingly. Yet his reference to Yhwach as “his majesty” made his words ring false, and Orihime kept her guard up. He might not have been currently an enemy of the Soul Society, but he had been in the past, she concluded. And for that she was glad she wasn’t a Shinigami. “What do you want with me then?” she asked him. There was a moment of silence, as if Cang Du were attempting to frame his words carefully. “I want you to restore something I lost,” he said at last, confirming Orihime’s initial suspicions. “Yhwach, in the final battle, took the powers of the remaining Sternritter in Auswählen, and in some cases, their lives.” “I know.” She thought of Bazz B, who had joined forces with the Shinigami after Yhwach had taken his Vollständig. It hadn’t seemed fair to her at the time. And it still didn’t seem fair. How could a ruler abuse his people like that? But then she thought of the way the Quincy King had wallowed in his own well of darkness, and shuddered. “My situation is different, though.” Cang went on. “My powers were stolen before the end of the war.” Then, he did something unexpected. Unzipping his jacket and lifting his t-shirt, he revealed a wide, jagged scar that ran from his right clavicle down to his hip. It almost appeared as though he had had his arm and half his torso severed from the rest of his body at one point. For some reason, Orihime was reminded of Grimmjow. “When I was cut down, Yhwach also drained almost half of my powers as a Quincy,” he said, letting the t-shirt fall back into place. “He took my Schrift and my Vollständig." He paused, then said: "I want you to restore my powers.” His gaze was unnervingly steady as he made his request, and Orihime felt another chill run down her spine. “Why?” she finally questioned, “If you have power already, why do you need more?” “It’s not a question of whether I have power or not,” Cang Du replied, coolly, “It’s about taking back what was rightfully mine. What was stolen from me. It’s about making amends.” “And why should I trust you?” she asked cautiously.   “Well, in our case, trust only has partly to do with it,” Cang Du explained, “The other half is that if you restore my Vollständig I can free us from this place.” When she didn’t seem to grasp the gravity of what he was saying, he added: “You must not have noticed. Right now, we’re trapped.” Again, Orihime fought back a welling sense of panic as she once more considered her surroundings. The black expanse stretched out around her, with no end in sight and the only stable point of reference the surface beneath her. All she knew was that they were beyond the Kōtotsu, whatever that implied. And she realized that he was right. They were trapped. “How—” “I don’t expect you to be able to sense it, but even though there is no reishi here, there are currents all around us. With Vollständig, I could harness those currents and to find a way out by anchoring ourselves to a single point and pushing through to the other side.” His explanation was imperfect, but Orihime didn’t doubt that he knew what he was talking about. Nonetheless, for a long time she didn't respond, considering his request. Finally, she said: “You fought against the Gotei 13... If I help you, how can I know that you won’t attack my friends?” “I only fought because I had no other choice. None of us were given a choice. Yhwach pulled us into the Schatten Bereich upon our deaths, or even before our deaths. And as I said, he is the one who took my powers—I do not consider the Soul Society to be my enemy in this.” Orihime shook her head. Cang Du was a former Sternritter, that fact was undeniable, and she knew that if she helped him he would only become a potential, future threat for those she cared about. But as if reading her thoughts, Cang Du added, quietly, “Besides, how do you know that your ‘friends’ are worth protecting?” Orihime frowned. “What do you mean?” “Do you really believe that the organization who sanctioned the extermination of an entire race of people—twice—has the best interests for you or Ichigo Kurosaki in mind? In case you have forgotten, he is part Quincy as well.” Orihime’s eyes widened as she realized what Cang Du was implying. While those same questions had often run through her mind, especially when talking with Uryū, she usually ignored such thoughts, pushing them to the back of her mind, out of sight. “No,” she said firmly, “No, you’re wrong. The Gotei 13 is different now. They would never do something like that again.” But Cang Du didn’t seem to be convinced in the slightest at her excuse. And truthfully, she hadn’t even convinced herself. “Tell me, Orihime Inoue,” he said, “In your own experience, have you found the Shinigami to be merciful?” Orihime did not reply, but concern crossed her face. “If there is one thing I’ve learned,” he continued, “It’s that loyalties should not be forged blindly. Which is why I don’t blame you for your hesitation now.” He then sat down cross-legged, apparently expecting to be there a while. “Although, you should know that, since time is irrelevant here, it is possible that for every minute that passes here, an hour goes by in the human world. Maybe even a year.” He looked up at her, gauging her reaction narrowly. “So then, what is your decision?” Orhime breathed out, slowly. “Alright,” she said quietly. She sat down on her knees facing him, extending her hands. “I’ll try my best to restore your powers,” she began, “But it may be difficult, if not impossible, to bring them back. So much time has passed since the war, and if Yhwach was the one who stole your abilities then...” she trailed off, thinking back to the time when she and Tsukishima had combined their abilities to reject the future that Yhwach had set for Ichigo’s Zanpakutō. She had originally been incapable of rejecting the imposition of brokenness upon the blade. Her abilities had reached their limit then, and as such, she was not entirely sure if she would be able to reject the phenomena of Auswählen, which was also, in its own way, a fate that had been pronounced by Yhwach.    “I understand.” His tone of voice conveyed a steely confidence, as though he knew something she didn’t. It was as if he weren’t expecting anything from her, as though fate itself had already been settled. She recalled the words he had chosen to describe it, “to restore,” as if he saw her role as merely setting the universe in its proper order—giving him back what was rightfully his. Unbeknownst to her, Cang had already begun to rediscover the power of his Schrift within him. Evidentially, when Yhwach had revoked the letter that had been engraved on his soul, he hadn’t taken back all of it. There was a part, at least, that had always been intrinsically his own. Only he could have developed I-the Iron. It had been a power forged from the brokenness of his own past and had developed alongside his own ironclad will. Not even Yhwach could take that away from him. It was his. As such, he knew that he only needed Orihime to reject its absence. He could have cared less about the Vollständig, knowing that it was unlikely that it would be recovered. But considering that he had not technically had the Auswählen imposed upon him like the other Sternritter, there was a chance that he would regain the abilities of the full release as well. Maybe he had been fortunate to have been cut down by Jugram Haschwalth, although he certainly hadn’t seen it that way at the time. As the golden light of Sōten Kisshun surrounded Cang, he sensed Orihime’s confidence waver, and closed his eyes to focus, as though he were strengthening her determination with his own. At first, it didn’t seem as though anything was happening, but of course there would have been no physical, visible effect to show whether or not he was regaining his Schrift. Instead, he began to feel something at the center of his being—his reiryoku; it was beginning to increase. Sōten Kisshun. The God Art. Able to reject phenomena and return something to its former, complete state. To negate any event. To reverse time itself and even fully resurrect the dead. It was the first time Cang Du had experienced such a technique, as he had only ever known Ransōtengai as a means of healing. The Quincy technique seemed laughably inadequate to him now, and he wondered how he had even survived by using it to begin with. He also wondered what Bazz-B would say once he found out that he had gone to Orihime in order to restore his Schrift. Secretly, though, he hadn’t told him because he was afraid the latter would have wanted in on it—and seeing how the conditions under which they had lost their powers had been vastly different, Cang was afraid that it wouldn’t have worked the same way for Bazz. But perhaps more importantly, he knew that he couldn’t let the Coven find out. The promise to help him restore his powers was the only leverage they held over him. Now that he had found another way, it was likely they would have seen him as an unpredictable element at best: someone whose loyalties could be called into question at any moment. Actually, it wouldn’t be far off from the mark. Of course, he never would have been able to find Orihime if it hadn’t been for the Coven, at least, one particular member of the Coven. His hand pressed against the pocket where he had stored the device—similar in shape to the bankai-stealing medallion that had once been used against him during the war—that would allow him to form a path out of the Dangai. It was his ticket home. Of course, he had lied to Orihime about his Vollständig, just as he had lied to the remains of the Wandenreich when he had pledged his loyalty to the self-deluded group of surviving Sternritter. The Bitch Squad, Bazz B had termed them. As if he would ever submit to their authority. Ever since he had been betrayed by Yhwach, Cang Du had preferred to operate on his own. He refused to allow his sense of loyalty (as he was capable of unconditional loyalty) to be used against him ever again. His scar was the reminder of that, which still marked his torso despite the Sōten Kisshun’s negating effect. After all, Orihime was rejecting the point at which he had had his powers taken from him, not the event of his near-death itself. At last, it seemed that rejection was complete. Orihime released the Sōten Kisshun, and Cang Du opened his eyes. “I’m sorry that’s... the best I can do, I—” A membrane of silver rippled across Cang’s skin, and Orihime gasped. He held up his hand, examining his palm as the skin on his fingers hardened and turned steel gray. Then, he released his ability, and his hand returned to normal. For the first time that Orihime had seen he smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile. I-the Iron was his once more. “Thank you, Orihime Inoue,” he said as he stood. But there wasn’t a shred of gratitude in his tone. Orihime stood up as well, clasping her hand to her chest as an uneasy feeling stirred in her heart. “You have given me what was rightfully mine, and for that I am grateful,” he continued. Then, apparently unable to resist the urge to gloat, Cang Du removed a medallion-shaped device from the pocket of his jacket. “And thank you as well for being so compliant,” he said, and for a fraction of a second, the disdain in his voice was evident. Orihime’s eyes widened as she realized it had been his intention to bring her here all along. While she knew it had been a fifty-percent chance as to whether he had been lying or not, she had chosen poorly nonetheless. Clearly, he had never needed Vollständig to escape the void beyond the Kōtotsu to begin with. At first, Orihime braced herself, preparing to defend against whatever killing blow Cang decided to use in order to finish her off. But he had apparently lost interest in her entirely. She then realized that there was a fate far worse in store for her: He was going to abandon her there, leaving her stranded alone in the void, possibly forever. Cang extended his hand, holding out the medallion, and a vibrating pulse of invisible energy rippled out through the air with a nearly-electric hum. Blue light shone from between his fingers as he prepared to activate the device. “No!” Orihime acted suddenly, with an unpredictable ferocity seldom seen. But she was only moving so quickly out of desperate fear. Fear that, once again, the world would pass her by as she watched, complacent, from the sidelines. A translucent, golden pyramid enveloped both Cang and Orihime, and she clapped her hands together, bringing the walls of the barrier closed. But it was at that moment when the device activated, and Cang’s eyes widened with horror as black tendrils shot out from the medallion, completely filling the space within the barrier before consuming them. A split-second later, they had vanished. Part 4: Hate Not My Enemy, Refrain Instead of emerging in Hueco Mundo, as Cang Du had originally intended, he and Orihime found themselves in the tunnel of the Dangai once more. While they had both managed to keep their footing, the floor beneath their feet was shaking violently, and just then a yellow light appeared at one end of the tunnel. They had reemerged in the Dangai, and the Kōtotsu had reappeared as well. It was almost as if time had repeated itself, or as if they had never been swept up by the Kōtotsu to begin with. “Orihime-chan!” Orihime heard Himari yelling at her, and her eyes widened as she saw the Shinigami running towards her. Time, apparently, had repeated itself. Or at least, they had ended up in the Dangai a few moments before they had originally disappeared from it. Either way, they still had the Kōtotsu to contend with. Fortunately, this time Orihime’s ankle wasn’t caught in the wresting flow of the tunnel wall. Placing both hands in front of her, she was about to call out another Santen Kesshun to block the Sweeper. But then, she was nearly blinded by a flash of blue light, and there was a roar that drowned out even the whistling howl of the Sweeper. Shé Jìn Zhǎo. This time, the attack seemed much more concentrated, and much more powerful. But the serpent-like projectile didn’t stream towards the Kōtotsu—instead, it headed straight towards Orihime and Himari.